


Dream Smp Short Stories

by FlowersandKnives



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dream is a dick, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Humor, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pandora’s Vault, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), So much angst, Suicide, Symbolism, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, author writing poetry, cobblestone towers, ghostinnit, nothing is ever beta read, swearing used to move the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowersandKnives/pseuds/FlowersandKnives
Summary: These are all little stories that I didn’t feel like posting individually, so now they’re all in this one book ::DAlso, poetry is sad.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This little story is about Tommy actually committing self kill in logested

_Do you know what happens when angels fall?_

Tommy felt lost, confused, abandoned. He hadn’t meant to upset Dream, he really didn’t. He didn’t know what he was thinking when he built that basement room or why he hid it from Dream. There was no other way it could have ended. 

_When they are cast down from the heavens?_

He’s lost his only friend out here now, because of his own stupidity and inability to listen. That’s what happened with Tubbo, and now with Dream. God damn it, he thinks, why can’t I do anything right. Why am I such a awful friend. I failed to save Wilbur. I failed Tubbo and risked L’Manberg. And the one person who was willing to stay with me even in exile has left me now. 

_Their wings are burned away._

And so he builds a tower. Up, up, up, into the sky until he can see all of Logsted and its surrounding forest. He turns around and squints through the rain. Looking out across the ocean he hopes to see even a glimpse of his formal home, just to see it. All he sees is darkness. 

_They lose their voice from screaming so that they may never share their story._

It’s cold up here and his torn clothes do little to protect him against the torrent of rain. He’s already weak from lack of sleep and malnutrition. His legs shake. 

_Some die before they reach the earth. Some wish they did._

His legs give out beneath him, and he crashes to his knees atop his tower. His eyes feel droopy, the boy sways a bit and falls forward. But eventually, The wind hurts. It doesn’t hurt as much as his chest does. It feels similar to the other times he’d died, and how for a moment it felt as if every part of himself was being torn apart. Would anybody come for him? Would it be like in the books? He’d hear someone call his name, just as he hit the ground? He doubted it. Dream was angry, and probably wouldn’t visit for a long while. Ghostbur had vanished, and his few other visitors had stopped coming a long time ago. Tubbo had never been there. 

_they crash_

He can’t see the top of the tower anymore. He can’t hear himself think over the sound of the wind. 

_and pray the impact kills them._

Then, there’s nothing.


	2. Innit under the house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Technoblade is a very tired guy who finds his brother stealing his shit and living under his house

Techno wasn’t sure how to react when he returned home to find someone had taken things from his chests. There was even wheat in his potion chest! He could only think of one person both bold and stupid enough, and that was Tommy.

He sighed and rubbed at his temples in exasperation. If this was Tommy’s way of taking his anger out on him he was going to be very pissed. 

Techno knew his brother hated him and frankly he was fine with that. Ever since coming here, he and his brothers had steadily grown apart. And Wilbur was dead at the moment. 

All he cared about was destroying L’Manberg and helping Phil, Tommy had more than shown he didn’t even like talking to Techno. He was fine. 

————————

This was not fine. The one time he’d actually tried to sleep and we was awoken by a very loud bell. Not only was his bell silent, this one was muffled and came from below.

The voices were energetic as ever although they seemed preoccupied yelling E. He ignored the questioning looks from the villagers as he climbed down the ladder.

He looked around the barren room, confused as to why the bell sounded as if it was coming from beneath the floor. Who the hell would put a bell beneath his house? 

Tommy. 

Mining through the floor he found himself dropping down onto a bright yellow floor. There was a startled yelp and the bell abruptly stopped ringing. 

The room was small. Tommy was pressed into the corner of a small alcove with a log and bell. The boy was smaller than when he last saw him. His clothes hung off him and were covered in coal dust. He looked pathetic. There was no way this boy was Tommy, his brother would never allow himself to cower like this. 

“Get out of my house!”

Never mind it was Tommy. Even with his scratchy tone, Techno would recognize his brothers voice anywhere. “This isn’t your house, you are literally living under my floorboards.” Like a raccoon.

Actually, the boy resembled a raccoon. Funny. But that wasn’t important. His brother was living under his house, taking his stuff, and frankly, looked like shit. What the hell happened?

——————————-

After hauling a very panicked child out of floorboards he watched as Tommy devoured some stew. The boy ate like he hadn’t had a meal in weeks. 

“I’m hiding from Dream.” Dream. Techno had mixed feelings about the mysterious character. He should have known this would involve him, he was the one who pushed for Tommy’s exile after all. 

“Why are you hiding from Dream?” He seemed to deflate and become smaller. “He’s mad at me...” His brother would never be upset at someone like Dream being mad at him.

If anything Tommy thrives on annoying the shit out of people. 

His headache was coming back. “Well you can’t live in my house.” The blond crossed his arms in annoyance. “I’m not living in your house, I made my base under it!” Techno really felt like becoming a only child but he didn’t want to risk Phil beating his ass. 

“Well you can’t just live under my house for free, y’know?” He might as well make use of the situation. “How do you feel about terrorizing L’Manberg?” 

Tommy recoiled as if burned and scrunched up his face. “Are you insane?! I’m not going to terrorize Tubbo’s country!” 

“Wasn’t Tubbo the one who exiled you?” 

He deflated again, looking unsure. “It was my own fault, I can’t blame him.” What the fuck. 

Techno may not be fond of his younger brother but he was aware that something was seriously wrong. The voices seemed to have picked up on it and encouraged him to ‘teach Tommy the way’. He assumed that meant violence. 

“How about we do some minor terrorism and get your discs back?” That seemed to get his attention. Techno smiled under the boar mask. “We’ll need to get my stuff back though.” 

He knew he could get it back himself, but it couldn’t hurt to bring Tommy along

————————————

Tommy looked around in confusion as Technoblade led him through the snow. Even through the clothes he was lent he was chilled to the bone. 

“Here we are.” He glared at the pig bastard. They were standing in front of a wall why the fuck did he sound so proud? The only thing out of place was a small button on the wall. 

His brother nodded at him to press it, and although he didn’t trust him, curiosity was a bitch. There was the sound of pistons firing and Tommy watched in awe as the wall pulled back to reveal a long room.

The walls were covered in wither skulls and chests lined the floor. A netherite armor set glowed ominously in the light. His brother threw out his arms, eyes shining behind his mask.

“Welcome home, Theseus.”

——————————————

Techno stared in horror at the cobble stone abomination in his yard. He’d been gone hunting for dogs which had led him back to Tommy’s old home. 

He was going to murder Tommy. Or at least teach him to make better towers. Seriously what the fuck. 

Speak of the devil and he will appear, Tommy marched proudly out of his horrid creation with a smile. He looked healthier, Techno practically forcing him to eat full meals. The bags under his eyes had also lessened, no longer looking like poorly done make up. 

“Techie! What’cha think of the tower?” His brain stalled at the old nickname, his brother hadn’t called them that since before.... well before everything. He must be in a really good mood. And Techno was not about to ruin it and have to deal with Tommy complaining.


	3. Technoblade’s Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The blood god takes a go at gardening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah it’s like 2 am when I’m posting this so uh.... if there’s any typos no there isn’t ::)

Technoblade awakes everyday with a splitting headache that has him stumbling blindly out of bed. The voices are silent at first until he pours his morning coffee and they begin to stir. 

He stares blankly out over the snowy landscape, the sun just beginning to rise over the treetops. The voices admire the sight, complain about his poor choice in coffee, and various other things. 

He finishes his coffee and foregoes breakfast. Technoblade greats his captive villagers, leaving them food and water before he leaves.

The hybrid adjusts his cape, ignoring a flaming zombie stumbling towards him. He doesn’t bat an eye when it crumples to dust before him. 

The voices ramble about nonsensical things as he walks, occasionally they ask him a question. One of them being, what was he doing? 

Well, Technoblade was a famed potato farmer. However he’d never taken a try at planting flowers. 

So here was the blood god, a famous and feared warrior, hunting for flowers. Unfortunately he wasn’t exactly the most delicate person, and ended up crushing the first few. 

Eventually though Technoblade found himself with some red tulips, the voices humming in approval at the color choice. 

———————————

The sun was halfway overhead when the piglin hybrid returned to his home. He retrieved his trusty hoe and began working on a small green house garden. 

He mentally thanked Phil for lending him a botany book, knowing already this would be more difficult than potatoes. Flowers were picky little shits. 

Techno sat back on his legs triumphantly after having successfully planted the flowers in a orderly fashion. The voices made popping noises, which he assumed meant they liked it.

The warrior stood up, brushing dirt off his legs, and returning back into his cottage. He wordlessly greeted Edward and started cooking some steak. 

The voices entertained themselves with ideas of bloodshed. 

—————————

The next day Technoblade goes through his morning routine the same as before. Only this time the voices chime a reminder to water his flowers. The hybrid mumbles a reply, earning a sideways glance from Edward. 

Once he has completed his chores for the day, feeding the villagers and Carl, dispatching creepers, along with laundry, he sets down for a brief relaxing moment. Said moment is quickly interrupted by the voices getting antsy about the flowers.

Technoblade sighs, knowing better than to try and argue with nonsensical entities in his head. So, he waters the flowers. Their petals are bright red against his hands, almost exactly like blood. 

The voices are pleased. They begin to name the individual flowers and he groans in agony. 

———————————

Well... fuck. Technoblade stares down at the dead flowers, some already decomposing. He may have gotten a little distracted with his turtles. 

He felt a wave of sadness from inside his head, the voices mourning the loss of their plant children. The half piglin didn’t feel sad, but he did feel a bit guilty for letting them die like this. 

He crouched down, taking some of the brown leaves into his hand. Just like blood that became darker as it dried, so had the flower petals. 

Technoblade slowly gathered up the decaying plants and made a makeshift grave next to his house. It was the best way to soothe the voices who were almost screaming at this point.

—————————

The next morning was different. He did not awake with a pounding headache, nor voices. They were still there, but decidedly quiet. It was eerily quiet without them. 

The ladder creaked in the silence, almost grating on his ears. His coffee was blander than usual. 

There was the noise of a Enderman behind him and he saw a flickering of purple particles. Swiftly he turned and saw red. 

Edward was holding a red tulip in his hands, towards Technoblade. The hybrid accepted the gift, holding the plant as if it was porcelain. The voices rejoiced and Edward returned to his boat.


	4. Ghost Innit part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh god pain

His ears were still ringing from the explosions and constant screeching of withers. Tommy’s voice was sore from screaming to be heard, to try and rally everyone to fight. And in the end they still lost.

So here he stood, atop the obsidian network stretching across the crater that was once L’Manberg. The country he’d given everything for, stripped away in an instant. 

He stares at the culprits, three people, two of which he had trusted. 

Technoblade, they’d had a rough start but Tommy liked to believe they had become friends in the weeks they had spent together. Thought they understood each other. Nobody understood him.

Philza, a father figure. He’d always had a favourite out of his collection of sons, always picking Technoblade over him and Wilbur. Always. Of course, he favoured the prodigy middle child.

And they stood beside Dream, who was the cause of all his pain. Tommy isn’t stupid, he knows what the manipulative bastard tried to do back in logsted. He doesn’t plan to forget that pain anytime soon. The thing was, Technoblade and Phil stood by his side as partners in crime. The crime being to destroy the one thing left of Wilbur.

He’d seen Niki burning down the L’Manberg Tree, the one thing that might’ve survived the carnage. Why?

His gaze drifted back up, across the obsidian walkway to the adjacent platform where the three men stood. 

Technoblade was laughing at the chaos, having the time of his life picking people off via aerial attacks. Phil was placing more TNT into the dispenser, back turned on his breaking son. Dream, the bastard, faced him with a triumphant aura.

Perhaps, in a way, Dream had been right all along. Dulling blue eyes looked to his side where Tubbo and Quackity stood together. He couldn’t read their expressions. 

Once upon a time he liked to think he could predict what Tubbo was thinking and vis versa. Now though he looked at his best friend, if he could still call him that, and saw a complete stranger.

Quackity... well he was Quackity.

Up here, among the cold air that caused his breath to become visible, Tommy had a realization.

“You were right Dream.” The masked man tilted his head in confusion, his partners not even sparing a glance. He could feel Tubbo and Quackity staring at him, perhaps expecting another betrayal. He couldn’t blame them, there had been many in the last hours.

“You were right, about what you said back in logsted.” That seemed to garner Technoblades attention as he turned his head towards the admin in question. 

“Nobody cares about me.” Philza looked up. “I didn’t believe it then but now I can see it.” He looks down at the gaping abyss that was once L’Manberg. “Nobody cares. If they did why would they hurt me?” 

Tubbo made to grab Tommy’s shoulder but he was brushed away. Tommy was too tired to deal the president, if he could be a president when his country laid in shambles.

He could see Ghostbur drifting atop the obsidian, lost as always. He didn’t seem happy for once and it only made Tommy more sure that he had failed.

Failed to be a good friend to Tubbo. Failed to protect L’Manberg. Failed everyone. Failed Wilbur. 

“Do you remember, back in the nether? What you said on the walkway?” He’d never told Technoblade this, and he never planned to tell anyone. It was none of their business what’d happened to him while they went about their merry lives.

“It’s not your time to die.” Dream echoed his phrase, voice neutral. Tommy could feel stares from everywhere. Beside him, people he once knew. Across from him, people who had hurt him. Below, people he had hurt and had failed.

“You were right, it wasn’t my time to die.” The rain had picked up again, whipping against his face. He stepped forward, knowing well there was no obsidian to catch him. “But that time is now.” 

And he fell.

There were a lot of sudden screams, coming from everywhere around the crater. He could make out Tubbo’s and see him struggling against Quackity’s grip, reaching down as if to catch his falling friend. 

Ranboo, oh god Ranboo, for a split second Tommy felt bad. But it would be better, Ranboo would have one less person to worry about. It would be better.

And Ghostbur. His scream echoed horribly, filled with a anguish Tommy would never be able to describe. 

The impact was quick, painless. 

Everyone would watch from above and surrounding the crater as the sixteen year old boy landed with a sickening smack, blood painting the stone red.

The communicators pinged with the message TommyInnit had died from falling. There was a moment of tense silence. Waiting for the body to disperse and reform in the nearby bed where they know he had set his spawn. 

The mangled body didn’t move. 

—————————


	5. Ghost Innit Part 2

When Tommy opened his eyes he found himself sitting on a bench looking out towards the sunset. A jukebox sat to the side, but no disc inside to play. That was kind of sad. The sunset was pretty nice though!

He looked down at his hands, finding them translucent and greyish. Was he dead? That felt right, the idea that he was dead. He floated off of the bench, slowly spinning around in a circle. There was a wooden pathway just behind, some odd buildings surrounding it. 

With nothing better to do the ghost floated down the path, feeling as if he’d walked this trail a million times. Eventually he found himself atop a half broken staircase overlooking a war zone. Like literally, that was the best way to describe it other than ‘giant fucking crater’. 

Although there was probably a city here once if the wreckage and remaining buildings were anything to go by. It was empty though, perhaps because it was night. Tommy could see just fine though. 

He floated down into the crater, spinning slowly in morbid awe at the destruction that had took place. There was a low whirr that had him snapping his head around in a way that if he hadn’t already been dead, he surely would be now. 

A wither with multiple arrows in its right head was roaming the underground. He locked eyes with it, surprised at how calm he felt. It looked away uninterested and floated away. Tommy felt slightly insulted. He continued on.

There was an odd stone cross sticking up at the bottom of the hole. Upon closer inspection, it was a tombstone. With his name inscribed. Translucent fingers trailed along his name, drifting down to the description.

A friend, a leader, a son, and a brother. He will never be forgotten and will live on in our memories.

Tommy wondered what he was like, back when he was alive. Was he funny? Was he brave? He hoped so. 

————————

Tubbo was curled into a ball on the far side of a couch. It had been a week since the attack on L’Manberg, since Tommy’s death. He had snapped at Quackity for holding him back and hadn’t seen the man since. He wants to apologize.

After the tense waiting for Tommy to respawn everything went to hell. Tubbo can’t remember clearly, everything blurry after his friend hit the ground. The funeral was held once the sun had risen. Tubbo had protested against Tommy being buried at the bottom of the crater but Fundy had pointed out that there wasn’t enough of his body intact to be moved. 

He fell asleep each night to the sound of Chirp playing in his own jukebox. He’d wake up screaming and sweating, alone in the room with only a candle for light. 

Tubbo would stay awake until the sun started to rise and be coaxed out of bed by the smell of breakfast. He’d untangle himself from the blankets and stumble out of his new house, shivering in the cold. 

He would row across the stretch of water before starting the tredge back to L’Manberg. Or what was left. Sometimes he’d see people but he never stopped moving until he reached the crater. He’d spend hours navigating the dangerous path downwards until a small outcrop met him. 

He would sit beside the stone cross, rambling about everything that came to mind. But it wasn’t the same without Tommy yelling about women and burning stuff....

It probably wasn’t the best idea since there was a Wither still roaming the area but it seemed uninterested in everyone. Weird.

And then on the seventh day after tommys death, Tubbo had been climbing back up to the surface when something moved out of the corner of his eye. A grey apparition was floating down through the crater, glancing warily at the Wither.

The former president quietly snuck behind a rock to get a closer look. He could see its face from here but it was wearing a red white T-shirt. It’s legs suddenly faded out of existence below the knees creating an illusion that it’s legs had been torn. 

Well whoever it was they certainly weren’t Wilbur and lacked the horns of schlatt which left only one other dead person. 

“Tommy?”

—————————

The ghost was brought out of his thoughts by a voice calling out his name. A boy about his age with ram horns curling around his dark brown hair stood across from Tommy. The other boys eyes widened with a thousand emotions before crashing to his knees, tears welling in his eyes.

“Wh-“ the strange boy erupted in violent sobbing, his forehead meeting the ground. “I’m so sorry tommy I should have saved you!” The boy was blubbering so much that Tommy couldn’t even get a word in. 

“Can you shut up!?” The ram boy looked up, eyes wide in shock. Tommy hadn’t expected to blow up like that but the others screaming was getting annoying. “Listen, I don’t even know your name.” And he was crying again. 

“Tubbo?” Tommy looked towards the new voice to find a... fox?? Fox man with a cool jacket and hat! The fox man was climbing down the side of the crater towards the crying boy. “Jeez you’ve gotta stop staying down here so late the suns going down!” The man hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Tubbo?” The boy didn’t glance at the fox, and he followed his gaze to Tommy. His jaw fell open, ears perked around his hat.

“Tommy?!”

The ghost child gave a two finger wave. “That’s me.” 

“Wh- You’re a ghost!” 

“Yep.” As if that wasn’t obvious, he was literally see through. 

“Shit I’ve gotta go get Phil-“ 

“Who’s Phil?” The fox man froze in place his hair standing on end. He slowly turned his head back towards Tommy, fear in his eyes. “Tommy?” The boy sighed in exasperation, rubbing at his temples. “Listen man I don’t know who either of you are.” The ram boy starts wailing again. 

The fox man stutters on his words before clearing his throat. “I’m Fundy, and this is Tubbo.” He looks down at the sniveling kid and then back at Tommy. “We knew you when you were alive.” 

Tommy wonders if they were his friends. “I kind of figured that.” Well this was incredibly awkward but frankly Tommy didn’t care. He didn’t know these people, he wasn’t the same person he was before he died. 

“Do you remember your father?” He perks up at that. He had a father? A family. He tries hard to remember but he only sees a cabin in the woods. The cabin feels familiar and safe.

It’s the closest thing to a memory Tommy has, he can’t let the opportunity slip away. “Take me to him.” Fundy shakes the ram boy, whispering to him. Tommy follows the two as they climb out of the crater.

The Wither watches.

———————————


	6. Dream in prison pog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream in prison what will he do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EYO HEADS UP WE GOT SOME LIGHTLY GRAPHIC SHIT IN THIS CHAPTER

The sound of lava popping was the only sound echoing around the obsidian cell. Dream had his legs propped up against the wall while his back was on the ground.

He didn’t really know how long he’d been here, the clock having become another colorless thing to him.

Everything was colorless and he was empty, and the cell was his perfect reflection. 

The excruciating pain of the lava searing him to ash had grown boring. So he waited for his family to visit.

He understands, he really does. They don’t see how he’s trying to help but he won’t hold it against them. The prison won’t hold him forever, he knows that.

Dream sees the tension in Sam’s shoulders when he brings him potatoes. Despite the healing bruises and dried blood his mask remains porcelain white. 

He remembers when Tommy killed him over and over, how one sword swipe had almost shattered the mask and he’d twisted so it sliced his neck instead. 

When the lava had lowered and he’d seen the child staring at him across the expanse to his cell it had almost felt ironic. 

Even dressed in a orange prison suit he knows that the faceless gaze and overly friendly tone are a red flag to everyone he talks to. All the better for his villain image.

When they finally realize that they must unite against him, he’ll finally have that family he dreamed about when he created this Smp. 

Dream slid his feet down and pushed himself up to his full height. He could brush his fingers along the ceiling if he reached up.

The only thing he felt in the cell was a sense of restlessness that burned and itched at his legs. He often found himself doing push-ups and curl ups until his muscles screamed in protest.

He’d taken to writing whatever stray thoughts crossed his mind in the books he’d been given. 

The sound of shuffling filled the cell as he moved to the lava again. 

His mask hovered just inches from the lava, some stray embers sizzling against his mask. He raised his hand so that his fingers grazed the hot surface the skin burning and swelling.

With a quick movement he shoved himself face first, the stinging pain a fading echo has he found himself falling into the pile of water on the other side of the cell.

Dream sat there in the water for a moment, his blond hair plastered across the porcelain mask.

He pulled himself up and turn so that he could looked back at the rippling water. His hands reached behind his head and mindlessly untangled the string holding his mask.

There was a plunk and a potato rolled into view and he looked up at the prison wardens startled form. 

Sam stared back at the creature hunched over the water pool, and a black void stared back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter Dream’s book???? Mayhaps???


End file.
